


said & done

by kitschy



Series: and in short measures, life may perfect be [1]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Erik has Issues, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, i mean i stan the dark stuff but sometimes they just need to hold each other u know what i mean, this is so sappy but if you need a break from the darker stuff ur welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22817278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitschy/pseuds/kitschy
Summary: She’s felt it for far longer than she’s had the courage to say it, but hey, better late than never. He is inclined to agree.
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Series: and in short measures, life may perfect be [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956127
Comments: 12
Kudos: 77





	said & done

When she mumbles the words she’s been thinking all day, her breath shallow and her insides trembling, all he does is blink. Inside, adrenaline lights up his body, races through his veins like a line of gasoline catching fire.

“Pardon?” he says, and it would seem perfectly normal if his voice weren't so breathy. He knows it is ridiculous to try to sound mild, since from her spot on his lap, with hands on his chest, she must feel his heart beginning to pound, wild and disbelieving.

“I—“ she begins to repeat herself, but no, if he hears it again then surely he will die. So he presses his fingers carefully to her lips. As her eyebrows furrow slightly, he becomes aware of how erratic his own breathing is, of the ache spreading through his chest; he should say something, but she wraps a hand around his wrist and kisses his fingertips, her lashes low and fluttering, and his heart sings _Christine, Christine._

“Erik?" she asks, gaze darting back up. "Are you okay?" At her hesitant tone, the little pout to her lower lip, his heart swells and tears prick his eyes. He shakes his head. The throbbing in his chest becomes unbearable as he studies _her_ eyes, clear, brown, wide with concern—then, lower, the silk-soft skin of her neck. Before she can speak again, he wraps his arms around her waist and buries his face there. Tugs her closer, holds her so tight she laughs breathlessly in surprise. Her warm weight all against him, all in his arms, makes his throat close up—he whimpers into her softness, her sweet flowery scent, the soothing sound of her pulse. For the first time, he thanks God he is not wearing the mask.

“Oh, my darling." She strokes his hair the way she always does when he cries, and he realizes he _is_ crying now. “My poor Erik. I won’t ever leave. You know that, right?”

He tries to nod against her. His shoulders shake with a sob, and she wraps her arms around him and kisses the top of his head and rocks him slowly back and forth.

He belongs to her, he thinks. Entirely. His dear Christine, his heaven-sent angel. He has to say it back to her, but he is consumed by it, oh, it _hurts_ how much he feels for her, how much he needs her.

“I’m yours,” she says. “All yours, as long as you want me.”

They stay that way for awhile, with her murmuring sweet comforts now and then. Gradually, his breathing slows, and he tries forming the words, his lips brushing her collarbone. It gives him a little thrill, a surge of joy.

Her heart skips a beat. He feels it. "What was that, Erik?" she asks, unsteady.

He disengages gently from her embrace; one hand moves to her waist, one to her hair, and he combs back her smooth curls. She smiles hopefully at him, and it is like morning light breaking through the curtains.

“I love you too, Christine,” he whispers, looking up at her. The dam breaks, the river rushes—it feels so good to say it, and he takes in the first breath of his life. "I love you," he repeats helplessly, "I love you I love you, oh, I do," and his voice breaks, so before he can drive himself to tears once more, she takes his face in her hands and kisses him with all she has. When she pulls back, resting her forehead against his, her eyes are shining, dancing.

And if it makes her happy, then that is that. He will say it every day.

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is me popping my head out to say i am working hard on the first chapter of the thing movements is a prequel to AGH! and then i will write another movements chapter! i promise i will not disappear without letting u all know so always assume something is in the works in my notes app... sorry for being slow thank u if u are sticking around
> 
> in the meantime, don't tell me how many times i used the word "and." hope it was enjoyable anyway!


End file.
